Professionals Built the Titanic
by LadyDivine91
Summary: Kurt is really bad at Shibari, but Blaine doesn't mind. Klaine. Kurt H. Blaine A.


_**Notes: Written for the Klaine Advent Drabble prompts exclude/ribbon. Warning for bondage and D/s undertones.**_

"So we go over and then … no. Okay, this one goes _under_ and then … uh, nope. That's not right." Kurt sighs. "You know, the guy in the Shibari video made this look _so_ easy."

"Take your time," Blaine says, smiling through his husband's discomfort. "I'm in no hurry."

Kurt leans forward and examines the rope he's been using to tie Blaine's wrists. With Blaine on his knees at Kurt's feet, Kurt is attempting to lock Blaine's arms to Kurt's thighs, with a braid running behind his neck – a position that puts Blaine in position to blow him, with the braid giving Kurt control of his movements. From the video Blaine showed him, Kurt had to admit it looked _hot_ , and fairly simple. But with a mile of rope pooling on the carpet, Kurt realizes they should have started with something shorter and easier to handle, like scarves. Kurt has a ton of scarves, even if he excludes his rare Alexander McQueens. Or ribbon. The guy in the video said they could use two different colors to make it easier to see how the knots build.

But no.

Blaine was so excited when Kurt said he'd give it a shot, he ran to the Home Depot after work and picked up a skein of rope. Kurt has no idea if Blaine read the label or picked the first thing he saw, because it must be close to fifty feet long! It probably doesn't help that they've dimmed the lights in the bedroom for ambiance, lighting candles to give their newly anointed 'playroom' a romantic glow. Or that they set up a camera to record them, choosing to add this encounter to their growing library of sex tapes.

Kurt usually doesn't suffer from stage fright, though the flop sweat he's currently experiencing begs to differ.

Kurt looks down at his husband. They're both naked, the glow from the candles giving Blaine's olive skin a creamy, golden sheen, the dancing light casting shadows across the muscles of his athletic figure. Kurt is ready to just take his husband on the carpet and forget about the rope … or beg his husband to take him.

Tied up or not, this is still incredibly hot.

"Are you sure _you_ don't want to be the one doing this?" Kurt asks. "You were the Boy Scout. I think tying knots would be more your forte."

"Nuh-uh. I like being here, on my knees, waiting to please you."

 _Oh boy_. Kurt likes the sound of that, but he may have bitten off more than he can chew. They chose these roles in part because Blaine claimed he dreamt of being dominated by his husband. Neither of them tops more than the other in their relationship, but in life, Kurt tends to be the nurturer, the caretaker, the multitasker, with a cooler head in stressful situations. Blaine is the passionate one. Regardless of his Dalton education and his numerous leadership roles therein, he's untamed, emotional, flies off the handle quicker, can sometimes be irrational. So in this arena, Kurt assuming the dominant role seemed more fitting.

According to Blaine.

Considering how much Kurt's hands shake trying to tie a few simple knots, he doesn't know if that was a wise decision.

Also, regardless of Blaine's claims and his current position, Kurt can't help wondering if he _isn't_ the one in control.

"Come on, Kurt," Blaine whispers, kissing slowly up the length of Kurt's thigh, arm hanging loosely from the gauntlet that Kurt has yet to tighten. "I know you can do it. I have all the faith in the world …"

Kurt takes a deep breath and starts again, giving it one final go before he'll grab the computer, log on to X-Tube, and call in for reinforcements. He promised to give this a shot and he will – for Blaine _and_ for him. Pushing boundaries, exploring new limits, Kurt wants to do it all with his husband. He pictures the pattern he's trying to weave in his head and does his best to recreate it, whipping lengths of rope behind him to keep them out of the way. He loops and ties and draws lines tight, focusing on one wrist, then the other. He finds the ends closest to him and gives them one final pull.

Eager to see how he fared, he looks at his creation … and frowns.

"Okay, this definitely isn't right." Kurt scowls at the mess he's made - rope draped everywhere, over his arms, hooked at his elbows and hanging to the floor, weighing him down. There is no visible pattern, just sloppy twists and lumps. But the most glaring mistake he's managed – he hasn't tied Blaine's wrists to his thighs, but somehow wound the rope around both their wrists together. It would probably be fairly easy to unwind, but there's so much of it, Kurt wouldn't know where to begin.

Blaine gives his wrists a tug. He has no clue how his husband did it, but he's locked their wrists together. The braid that should have been around Blaine's neck is wrapped behind Kurt's rear. Every time Blaine pulls forward, Kurt's hips jerk forward with them.

Blaine smiles.

"Nope," he says, dragging Kurt's hips, and his cock, towards him; beyond ready, after waiting so patiently, to take his husband into his mouth, bury his nose into that alluring tuft of cinnamon-colored curls between his legs. "I'd say you _nailed_ it."


End file.
